


Love at First Sight (How Ridiculous!)

by beejohnlocked



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, M/M, Smut Sunday, Unilock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 13:53:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7107766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beejohnlocked/pseuds/beejohnlocked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Self explanatory</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love at First Sight (How Ridiculous!)

As a rule, Sherlock Holmes did not watch sports. Athletics had their appeal, he supposed, but they weren't the kind of art form that he enjoyed, particularly with contact sports. Too aggressive; too barbaric. The fact that Irene and her new girlfriend had been able to drag him here was nothing short of a miracle. Irene was a human hurricane. Janine was softer somehow, less intense, but equally as persuasive. The two of them together were a force beyond even Sherlock's stoic ability to resist.

He took a liking to Janine immediately. She was good for Irene. She was cheeky and wry with a bubbly personality, and Irene was gone on her instantly when they'd met at a party three weeks before. Sherlock had watched in mild amusement as Irene went uncharacteristically nervous and tongue-tied, flitting around a flirtatious and confident Janine. Later, Irene had lamented to Sherlock about how foolish and shy she had suddenly felt when she'd met Janine, and Sherlock rightly pointed out that the night had ended with Janine in her bed so she mustn't have mucked it up too badly. Since then, the two women had become inseparable and Sherlock had become their semi-reluctant third wheel.

Tonight, they had dragged him here. A university rugby match. And it wasn't even his university. But the girls had insisted that Sherlock would enjoy it, even went so far as to say they had a surprise for him. Watching the players run onto the pitch, Sherlock suppressed an eye roll. Or, rather, he tried to and failed, if the elbow in his ribs was any indication.

"Sherlock, darling, give it a chance," Irene said. "You're watching a field full of hot men running around in tight shorts. It can't be that much of an inconvenience for you."

"Exactly," Janine added. "Shut up and enjoy the view."

"Yes, but I could also be working on my mold cultures. I cannot believe you wouldn't even let me bring my books. Microbial infections are infinitely more interesting than this-"

Whatever Sherlock had been about to say next died in his throat. His brain fogged and his heart shot into overdrive as something caught his eye. A boy, no, a man. His hair was blonde, it shone like gold in the late afternoon sunlight. His body was compact and muscled and his arse was positively illegal in his shorts. He was shouting orders at his teammates but had a good-humoured smile while doing it. Even so, his eyes glinted with an underlying danger. Sherlock shivered. His blood dropped so quickly to his cock he felt a bit lightheaded. Who was that man? Sherlock's thoughts spiraled to the blonde barking orders at him, shirtless and dirty, pinning him down, grinding against him...

"Ahem!" Sherlock was pulled out of his sexual reverie and turned to see two equally smug women smirking at him. "Told you we had a surprise" Irene chuckled. "His name is John. Medical student and captain of the rugby team." She turned to Janine. "I told you I knew his type."

"Hey, I've only known him three weeks! Honestly, I thought he would go for someone a bit more aloof. I mean, look who his best friend is," Janine smiled and kissed Irene.

"I am not aloof!" Irene protested weakly, already giving into Janine's affections.

"Mmm, no you're not...once you warm up to someone," Janine reassured between light kisses.

Irene sat back. "Yes, and Sherlock is the same way. Plus I've seen enough of the military magazines he thinks he keeps well-hidden to know he likes blondes."

"Hey!" Sherlock flushed with embarrassment. "I am still here, you know. I still don't understand why you thought this would be a good idea. He's probably straight, and even if he's not, what makes you think I would be his type?"

Irene and Janine were back to smirking, damn them. "Because he was at the party where we met," said Janine.

Sherlock felt doubtful. Surely, he would've noticed this gorgeous man had he been at the party.

"First of all, he's bi. Secondly, it's not your fault you didn't see him," Irene explained. "John left early to take care of his sister who had a few too many-" Janine snorted. "-Okay, a lot too many. But before he left he found me and begged me to introduce the two of you."

Sherlock searched his mind palace for a memory of John. He vaguely recalled a few people carrying a belligerent drunk woman out the door at around 11, but he hadn't gotten a good look at any of them; the party was too chaotic.

"He asked...about me?"

Irene smiled. "He said he saw us arrive together and thought we were a couple until he saw Janine with me later. He said you were the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on and he had to know you. He gave me his number and we've been texting since, trying to set up a time." Irene smiled magnanimously.

"But when your romantic target is an unsociable supernerd, it's not the easiest thing to accomplish," Janine added. "Hence, the rugby game. Now you get to see John in action."

Did he ever, Sherlock thought, looking back at John. The man was sexy, he was perfect, he was looking right at him. Sherlock froze. John was looking right at him. The team was between plays and John was standing totally still on the field. He looked almost as though seeing Sherlock hurt something inside of him. Sherlock gulped and his skin prickled. Sweat broke out on the back of his neck. But he kept his eyes locked with John's. Suddenly, John's face broke out into a grin and Sherlock felt himself grinning in return without any intention to. Then John winked. He actually winked at Sherlock, then turned and once again joined his teammates.

Sherlock felt a swooping sensation in his stomach. His heart felt full to bursting. He wanted to laugh and cry and scream all at once. He wanted to dance and he wanted to curl into a ball. He was both exhilarated and terrified. Is this what falling in love felt like? If the looks on Irene and Janine's face were any indication, it appeared so. Oh, God. He was totally fucked.

The rest of the game passed in a blur. Any spare moment John had between plays were spent looking Sherlock's direction; Sherlock, for his part, tried to control his persistent erection and elevated heart rate. He had never had his body react this way. He'd always been able to keep tight power over himself. But his body was betraying him now. God, but he wanted John. On him and in him. At this point, just near him would be sufficient. John could just stand next to him, Sherlock kneeling, John touching himself, jerking his cock, fondling his bollocks, coming all over Sherlock's face and chest--

A whistle sounded, signaling the end of the game, and once again pulled Sherlock from his own filthy thoughts. Wait...the end of the game? That meant...

"Hi."

Had John materialized out of nowhere? One moment he was running the field, doing God-knows-what because Sherlock knew nothing of rugby, he only noticed John's glances in his direction; the next moment John was standing just inches away, smiling with confidence but shuffling his feet and clenching his hands nervously.

Sherlock stared, his mouth opening and closing like a guppy's. "Hey John," Janine saved him for the moment.

"Good to see you," Irene chimed in.

"Yeah, thanks, you too," John responded, but his eyes never left Sherlock's.

"I think we've worn out our welcome here, Dear," Irene said and linked arms with her girlfriend.

"Mm yes, I believe so. Your place or mine?" Janine said, winking.

Irene smiled and kissed her thoroughly. "It's our place now." She turned to Sherlock and John. "Bye, boys." Irene took Janine's hand as they walked away. They both glanced back with those same smug looks before disappearing out of sight.

Sherlock was still immobilized and John was still smiling at him. Blue. His eyes were blue. A lovely blue, a very dark blue, with depths like Sherlock had never seen. He wished he were capable of physically diving into John's eyes, of swimming in those indigo pools. Oh God, when had he gotten so poetic? He was absolutely repulsive.

Suddenly, Sherlock realized that it had been at least two full minutes and John was still waiting for him to speak. He knew this was his chance. He had to say something irresistible, something that made John realize how perfect they would be together.

"I'm Sherlock." Oh God, really?! He wanted the earth to open up under him. How very not pathetic. I am the worst sometimes, he thought forlornly. He was ready to symbolically tuck his tail between his legs and saunter off, and then John spoke again.

"Come home with me."

Sherlock's mouth dropped open, uncertain he heard correctly. "What?"

"Come home with me," John repeated. "I know that's crazy. I know we've only just met and we don't know one another and I don't even know if you're attracted to me much less fancy me as a long term thing but I do." John was babbling, he looked almost as though he wished he could stop himself talking but didn't. "I do, Sherlock and I have. I have since the moment I laid eyes on you a few weeks ago. I've thought of nothing else but knowing you and being near you. I've laid awake every night. And that isn't an exaggeration, Sherlock. It's been every night. I want you. I want all of you." John blushed deeply. "It's a sickness- I know. But if you could just come with me, nothing has to happen, I promise. I just want to be near you, Sherlock, please, I-"

"Yes."

John stilled. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and said, "What?"

"Yes, John. I will go home with you." Sherlock couldn't quite believe he was making actual words come out of his mouth at this moment, but John's expression told him he was.

"Okay."

 

 

*************************************************

 

Twenty minutes later, they were spilling into John's flat, laughing.

"I cannot believe you spilled a man's sexual history to your entire chemistry class!" John could barely speak between giggles.

"Seb called me stupid, John. He deserved it."

"This is true, but you have to know he was only jealous...I mean, look at you! You're not only gorgeous, but you're a genius to boot. Some people cannot handle people they deem as competition. And you are certainly that kind of person. Beautiful..." John gestured to Sherlock and his laughter died away. He shifted his feet, then his hands came up and cupped Sherlock's face. John's gaze was so earnest, so needy, Sherlock could hardly stand to look at him.

"You're shaking" he said instead, registering the trembling of John's hands and mouth, but then John's mouth was upon his and Sherlock forgot about thinking for the moment.

John's lips pressed gently but insistently, his tongue licked and dipped playfully, his trembling hands wrapped themselves behind the back of Sherlock's head and John pulled him in. Sherlock whimpered helplessly, lost in sensation. John groaned in response and his hands moved down to Sherlock's waist. He gripped and pulled Sherlock flush against him.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this," John growled. "More than just a few weeks. I've been wanting feel for someone this way for absolute ages!"

Sherlock broke away from John's swollen lips. "Wait, does that mean you're...?"

John chuckled. "I'm not a virgin Sherlock. I've had a fair amount of sex. But I've never been in love, you see, and-" John suddenly stopped, realizing what he had just implied. Now it was his turn to gape like a fish.

Sherlock lit up like a Christmas tree. "It's okay John. I understand how you feel. And I'm right there with you. Only..." Sherlock flushed deeply. "Only I haven't had the sex."

John stopped for a moment and pulled away. Sherlock protested internally. Ugh, now John was going to be a gentleman and call it a night, Sherlock thought.

But he didn't. Instead, John gripped Sherlock's hips and pulled him forward.

"Well, then." John's voice had gone all throaty. "I guess I'll just have to be the first then, won't I?" Sherlock groaned and kissed John desperately. He put everything he had into it, begging John for release with his mouth and body and whole being. They didn't need to have penetrative sex right now. They didn't need to have it ever if John didn't want to. Sherlock knew he wanted it, but he would be thrilled with whatever John wanted to give him, whenever he wanted to give it.

"Touch me." Sherlock's voice came out as a whine. He sounded as though he were begging. Ridiculous. But John got harder against him in response and he said "Mmm" in the dirtiest way possible, so Sherlock supposed it was okay. This time at least.

John made quick work of Sherlock's trousers and yanked them down with his pants. Sherlock gasped as John gripped him tightly and began pulling in short, quick strokes.

"You like this, Sherlock?" John's voice was pure sex. Sherlock cried out in agreement. "Oh yeah. You're so bad, aren't you? Such a dirty boy. Look how hard you are for me. Look how your cock aches. For someone you only just met!" John's voice was an equal combination of genuine surprise and teasing admonishment. "But you like it. You like being helpless to your body for once. You want me to take control of it instead of your genius brain. Don't you?" Sherlock's cock got impossibly harder in response to John's words. He was so bloody right. Sherlock had been waiting for this. Having such tight control combined with strong desires meant that he had the intense fantasy of someone making him lose that control. He wanted John to make him cry out and beg and scream and he wanted to be helpless to his body's needs for once.

"Yes! John...suck me." John dropped to his knees so quickly Sherlock nearly came on the spot. His mouth opened and he swallowed Sherlock down with a deep groan of satisfaction. Sherlock gritted his teeth and tried to hold on as best he could. Which was pretty much impossible with that tight mouth surrounding him, humming. With one of those hands gripping his cock while the other pressed against his bollocks and perineum. With those dark eyes locked with his. Those eyes, nearly eclipsed with black now. John moaning with need. saliva running out of that mouth, one of his hands moving to his own cock and fisting it desperately. John pulled back long enough to bark one order at Sherlock. "Come in my mouth."

And Sherlock did. Sherlock came for the first time under the control of another person, and he felt as though he were flying to pieces. He moaned and shuddered with pleasure as John sucked the orgasm out of him. This was otherworldly. Masturbation wasn't comparable to the sensations that were thrumming through him right now. He arched in ecstatic affirmation of the feelings John created. He felt his eyes fill, the tears both helpless and also terribly embarrassing. Crying during your first time was just so cliche. And he wasn't even sad! He was just feeling. A lot. Sherlock blinked several times before his tears could spill. This was already intense enough.

Before Sherlock's climax had even fully subsided, John went stiff and his mouth dropped open around Sherlock's cock. He pulled off and rested his head against Sherlock's thigh as his own peak rushed through him, his hand flying on his cock, thick ropes of his come painting Sherlock's leg. Sherlock sighed in relief as he came down, his legs folding underneath him like an accordion, John's arms surrounding him as his orgasm subsided as well. Sherlock kissed John, feeling almost afraid. What if John decided once was enough? And Sherlock hadn't even really gotten to reciprocate. It didn't matter, he assured himself. If this was all he got, so be it. It was still the best first time he could ever imagine.

He cuddled around the perfect blonde specimen, promising to himself he wouldn't lose it if John decided he wanted this to be a one-time thing.

"I love you."

Sherlock jerked back and looked at John, unbelieving. The blonde's eyes were wet and his face was split in two with the brightest smile Sherlock had ever seen.

"I know it's crazy, but I do. I love you."

"I love you too," Sherlock's eyes filled once again along with his response. What was going on with him? But it was true. Love at first sight was an absolutely ridiculous notion. But it had still happened to him. He loved John. And he didn't even know his last name! But it was fine. It was all fine. There was plenty of time to learn all of that stuff. And he owed Irene and Janine an enormous fruit basket as a thank you. But there was time for all of that later. First things first.

"Let's have dinner." Sherlock said.

John grinned.


End file.
